The Consequences in the Aftermath
by luli27
Summary: My take on what happened between the last two eps of the season and after the bombshell Brennan dropped on all of us in the last minute of the finale. They'll address all those issues we're all dying for them get into but are unlikely to ever see on tv.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I wished they were, but nope, they're not mine.**  
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**A/N: **Well, here's the fic I promised. This is the idea that first came to me after watching the last two eps of the season. Unlike most of my fics, I think this one, like the last one, is going to be on the short side. I'm not sure if musie has decided on a new path after such a long break, if it's just to get back into things after such a long break or if it's just what works for these particular fics. This should be about 3/4 chapters, depending on whether I break up the third chapter into two - because that one does promise to be on the longer side and I might break it up to keep the length of the fic somewhat constant. Anyway, I'm about to start the second chapter in a little bit and with luck, it won't be too long until I post it. However, those of you that liked Not a Mistake, will be happy to hear that inspiration struck again and I will be adding a couple of chapters to that story. It wasn't my plan at all, but a couple of songs came on my mp3 on the way to and from work and well, now the scenes are pretty well defined in my mind and probably won't leave me alone until I write them. That being the case, I might get those out before I get to finish this story. As I've said before, my usual beta is way too busy w/RL so this has only been betaed by me. Please excuse any mistakes. This is set immediately after the team watches Vincent's body being driven away. I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

As the group headed back into the lab, their singing slowly died down until only Sweets was left muttering the last few notes. They stopped walking when they reached the platform.

"Well," Angela said, standing next to Hodgins. She looked around at the group and noted that they were all standing there, looking at each other, not knowing what to do. "Well," she said once more, for once at a complete loss for words.

"Should we go have a drink in Vincent's memory?" Hodgins asked.

"Since we won't be having a memorial," Sweets started to lecture them, "having a reunion when we celebrate the memory of our fallen comrade will be appropriate …"

"Sweets," Hodgins said, giving the psychologist a look that had the younger man give a nod and stop the lecture.

"I'm game," Sweets said instead.

"I'm in too," Cam said with a shrug. "Michelle is out with friends and I don't really want to go to an empty house."

"Sweetie? Booth?" Angela asked the partners. Booth shrugged and looked down at Brennan.

"Sure," Brennan said after a slight hesitation. "But just one drink. The events of the last few days have been … very tiring and I am really not in the mood to stay out late."

"An early night sounds good to me," Booth agreed.

"I need to stop by my office first," Brennan said. "We'll meet you there in a little while." And just like no one seemed to think it strange that Brennan was hugging Booth's arm and all but leaning into his side, no one thought anything of the fact that she was making plans for both of them without talking it over with Booth first. But that was probably due to the fact that the two partners had been spending most of their time together – in and outside of work.

"Ok, sweetie," Angela nodded, "we'll see you there in a bit."

As the rest of the group headed towards the exit, Booth and Brennan silently started towards her office. She only let go of his arm once they were inside her office and she headed behind her desk to pick up the bag she'd left there early. The silence between them was both comfortable and fraught with expectation. Part of Brennan wanted to wait for Booth to say something first but another part couldn't handle the not knowing and in the end that part won.

"Are you still angry?" she asked him as she was checking if her bag had everything she wanted to take home with her - not looking at him made it easier to ask the question.

"Are you still impervious?" he asked instead of answering him. The part of him that was alpha male and that considered himself courageous and traditional and that believed the man should make the first move flinched at what, in any other circumstances, he would think was the coward's way out. But the part of him that had been rejected one too many times, the part that had been hurt and that was still raw and vulnerable (as much as it might pain his ego to admit any such thing), that part just couldn't find it within himself to put himself out there yet again. He'd come a long way since Hannah left, since the day of the blizzard. And the night before had all but erased whatever was left of his anger and yet, something still held him back, waiting to see where she was first.

Brennan turned around, intending to admonish that one shouldn't answer a question with a question but the look on his face stopped the words before they came out. She could see in his eyes the internal battle he was waging and with an internal sigh, she realized that, if she wanted them to move forward, she was going to have to go first. After all, she had rejected him once already and, despite the events of the night before, he still wasn't confident enough to offer himself again. She had hurt him too badly for him to risk rejection once more. And though he had hurt her too, it was her original rejection that had set in motion most of the hurtful events of the last few months.

"No," she finally answered, quietly but firmly, looking him straight in the eyes. "I … I think I am strong enough now to let go of the last of my imperviousness."

At first he just stared at her, seemingly frozen in place; the brilliance of his eyes the only sign that he'd heard her. After a few moments, he breathed deeply and took a couple of steps forward.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not angry anymore."

She took a deep breath and almost closed her eyes in relief but couldn't bear to lose the connection with his eyes. Instead, she took a couple of steps forward of her own and before she knew it, she was in his arms and they were kissing and it was everything she'd ever dreamed of but would never have admitted – not even to herself. The dreamy, loving feeling of the kiss soon changed, however, as the passion they'd kept under tight control for the last seven years threatened to finally burst free.

They never knew just how long they were kissing or how long they'd have kept it up if Angela hadn't interrupted them by knocking on the door to Brennan's office and clearing her throat loudly when the knocking alone wasn't enough.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said with a wide smile when the no longer just partners broke apart. Booth blushed while Brennan calmly turned to face her friend.

"Angela, I thought you'd gone ahead," it was as much a question as a statement.

"Yes, well," Angela answered with a slight grimace, "we got as far as the parking garage before we realized we didn't really want to be in a crowded bar. So, we decided to just hang out in the lounge upstairs. I just came by to let you guys know."

"Thanks, Angela," Brennan nodded. "We'll be right there."

"Or you could just go on home," Angela suggested. "I'll just tell the guys that you were more tired than you thought and Booth's going to take you home."

"I … you sure you guys wouldn't mind?" Brennan asked.

"No, of course not," Angela assured her. "You just go on; we'll get together later in the week." Brennan shared a look with Booth before nodding.

"Ok, then, thanks. We'll see you tomorrow." Brennan told her and with a last nod, Angela turned to leave. She didn't get two steps out, however, before she turned and, moving faster than what Booth thought a heavily pregnant could move, hurried towards and threw her arms around both of them.

"I'm so happy for you guys," she told them, sniffling. She took a step back and wiped her face with one hand while she waved the tears away. "Don't mind me; it's the hormones. And I'm just so happy for you guys that all I can say is 'it's about damn time." With a wink and a final pat on both their shoulders, she stepped back. "Well, I'll see you guys later. Have fun! And I hope you guys do everything I would do!" she called with a laugh as she walked out of the office.

"Why do I get the feeling that Angela knew something was up before she saw us kissing?" Booth asked with a half puzzled, half knowing look.

"I … might have mentioned something earlier today about last night," she confessed. "Are you upset?"

"She's your best friend, Bones," Booth told her. "I expected you to say something; I just hope you didn't get into too much detail."

While Brennan didn't exactly like the fact that he 'expected' her to do something, she decided there were worse things than having someone know you so well that they knew what to expect from you.

"I didn't really go into any details," she informed him. "She did ask for them but there really wasn't much to tell, was there?"

Though they had spent the rest of the night together after she'd crawled into bed with him, they'd done nothing but sleep together. It just hadn't been the right time for them to make love. Brennan had been too distraught over Mr. Nigel Murray's death and Booth had been too preoccupied with the hunt for Broadsky for them to do more than just hold each other tight. And the fact was that Booth's romantic side would have been more than a little disappointed if, after a seven year wait, their first time happened under such a dark cloud and Brennan's possessive side wouldn't have been pleased if Booth thought of anything but her while they made love.

And leaving the emotional considerations to the side, they also hadn't been in the best physical shape to engage in any kind of sexual activity. The stress of looking for Broadsky, knowing he was out there and could kill an innocent at any time, combined with the incredibly long day meant they were beyond tired. But Brennan's brain hadn't shut down enough for her to get any rest and, while Booth had been able to fall asleep, it hadn't really been a restful rest. It wasn't until he had Brennan in his arms and she felt surrounded by him, until they could feel each other's body heat and hear each other's heart beat that they were finally able to really rest.

"Ummm, maybe not," Booth answered her, giving her a thorough once over. "But what about when there are details to tell," he added, pulling her to him once more, "are you going to tell them to Angela, then?" he asked as he leaned forward and started kissing her neck. Her eyes widened in surprise before they closed in pleasure; this was a side of Booth she hadn't seen before, hadn't really known it existed. She had a feeling a seductive Booth could get her to agree to things even a charming Booth couldn't and a charmingly seductive Booth … well, that would just be trouble.

"Didn't you just," she broke off with a gasp as he found a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. Oh, yes, she was in a whole heap of trouble; but, Dr. Temperance Brennan wasn't one to give up. "Didn't you say that, since she's my best friend, you expected me to?" she asked in lieu of an answer.

"I said that I expected you to tell her something," he corrected her, pulling back to look into her eyes. "But that I hope you won't go into any details."

"We've agreed that what's ours is ours," she reminded him. "Angela might be my best friend and I might tell her a lot of things but the details of what goes between us remain between us," she assured him firmly. She knew that that was important to him but, surprisingly, she found herself possessive of those moments too and unwilling to share them with anyone, including Angela.

"That's good," Booth murmured before leaning down for another kiss.

"Shouldn't we go somewhere and see about creating those details?" she asked, gasping, when they came up for air and he'd gone back to kissing her neck.

"I think that's probably a good idea," he grinned at her, "a very good idea; so, my place or yours?"

"My place is closer," she grinned back.

"So, it is," he dropped a quick kiss on her lips before taking a step back. "Shall we?" he waved a hand towards the door and she nodded. She then made to pick up the bag she'd dropped sometime earlier but he was faster. "I've got it, Bones," he said as he leaned down and picked it up. At any other time, she'd have argued that she was capable of carrying her own bag but she decided it to let it go for that one time, knowing how much it meant to him to act like a gentleman.

"Let's go," with a last nod, she turned towards the door and led the way out the office.

The sight of the partners walking shoulder to shoulder, his hand on the small of her back, across the lab was a familiar sight and lifted, if only for a moment, the solemn mood that had descended on the lab since Vincent's death. The squints that remained, which were more than a few regardless of the late hour, and the team sitting on the upstairs lounge, followed their progress until Booth and Brennan walked out the door. They saw it as a sign that things would, in time, return to normal – or what passed for normal at the lab at any rate. Because if Booth and Brennan could act as they always had in the face of the last two years, if they could talk, tease and bicker after all the tears, fears and misunderstandings, if they could work, solve cases and still be there for each other despite the seven months apart, the blonde reporter and ill-conceived proposal, if they could get over rejecting each other, breaking each other's hearts and trying to move on then there was hope that the lab would, one day, be the same haven that it had always been. They were, after all, the center of it all – and the center held.

**A/N2: **I know everyone agrees they slept together that night, and I even wrote a fic along those lines, but, truthfully, I prefer to think that they waited at least a day because of the reasons I wrote in the fic and because I just think it would habe been more respectful to wait. And yes, I am aware that is probably very old fashioned, conservative thinking but that's me - old fahion and conservative. There are a lot of other issues that I want to see them address but I will get into them little by little over the next two chapters. Please, let me know what you thought!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I'm just taking them out for a ride, they're not mine, sadly.**  
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**A/N: **Sorry about the long wait, this chapter didn't come as easily as I thought it would. But it's finally here. I want to thank all of those who've reviewed and Mendebar for giving it a once over. I'm working on chapter 3 now, but no promises on when it'll be out. RL's being a little demanding right now. I'll do my best. I hope you like this one!

**Chapter 2**

The ride to her place was quiet but full of the anticipation and expectation that had first come over them in her office; only this time it was so thick in the air that it was hard to breathe. Though, their shortness of breath could also be due to their excitement.

Brennan jiggled her leg and kept shifting on her seat; she usually had no problem keeping still for hours on end but then, she'd never felt this way before – so excited that she felt as if her skin could barely contain her, even when she knew that was a completely illogical proposition. Booth, for his part, was the opposite; it was usually him that couldn't stay still; but at times like that, his sniper senses kicked in and he became preternaturally still. The only movement he made was his fingers tapping in an incessant, non-rhythmic way on the steering wheel he was gripping tightly.

"How much longer?" she asked just to break the silence.

"We're almost there," he told her, turning to give her a slight smile. They fell silent again; thoughts of what was going to happen once they arrived at her place swirling in their heads, affecting their power to make conversation. Something which, at any other time, would really bewilder, worry and annoy her. But at that particular time, it didn't bother her at all.

Finally, after what seemed to them an interminable ride, which in reality had lasted only half of what it usually did, they made it to her place. Booth parked in his usual space, turned off the engine and pulled the key. And after all the hurry to get there, they both sat there, motionless, for what seemed a small eternity. They've talked about it, they've both agreed on it and they were both looking forward to it but when faced with the reality of it, they both hesitated before taking that step. It would change everything even when most things were likely to stay the same.

"So," he said as he turned towards her. "We're here."

"Yes," she nodded.

"You think we should…?" he waved towards the windshield, indicating the street outside the SUV.

"We can't very well stay in here indefinitely," she said logically. She looked down at her hands for a moment before she regained her determination. "Besides, that's what we came here for, isn't it?"

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "Ok, so let's do this." With a last look at each other, they left the SUV.

He walked around the front of the truck and met up with her on the sidewalk. He reached for her hand and pulled her to a stop.

"Yes?" she smiled at him and they stood there for another moment, staring into each other's eyes. It wasn't long before the nervousness of the unknown left them and the excitement of giving in to what they'd resisted for seven years overtook them once more. Grinning at each other, they began walking towards her building.

"Good evening, Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth," John, the night security guard, greeted them. But they barely acknowledged him because they they've gone back to that place where it was just the two of them and the rest of the world ceased to exist; that place that Sweets found both so fascinating and so irritating that he'd written a book about it.

It was true that half of the young psychiatrist's assertions had been wrong but the fact stood that not everyone could create a place where one is so attuned to one's partner that you could count the other person's breaths and yet be so oblivious to everyone else that they could talk to you, about you, or even fall down in convulsions in front of you and you'd only notice when you were ready to come back to the real world. But being more or less ignored didn't really bother John in the slightest because he'd seen the look the partners were wearing before and knew what it meant as he and his wife had been able to create their own place since they got together.

John grinned to himself and went back to reading the sports page after the partners got into the elevator. He'd known that those two would get together sooner or later; there had always been too many sparks around them for them to keep their relationship platonic forever. Though, given their conduct of the last few months, even his optimistic and, more quietly kept, romantic self had began to doubt it.

As far as he could tell, it had all begun going downhill shortly before Dr. Brennan left for what was supposed to have been a year long dig and Agent Booth left for Afghanistan. He'd been sure they would finally see the light when they came back; but being in the middle of a war must have really gotten to the agent and scrambled his brain because he came back with a girlfriend. Not that John knew much about what had gone on, but just the little he'd learned from Dr. Brennan's comings and goings.

Whatever had happened, it seemed to have worked itself out and it had been a few weeks since things had gone back to normal. And now, it appeared that the partners had finally gotten their act together and were on their way to take that final step. He couldn't be happier for them. He grinned as he turned the page and murmured under his breath, "It's about damn time."

*

Once on the elevator, Booth and Brennan separated. Their control was hanging on by a thread and being in close confines while having physical contact wouldn't help them keep it. So, they stood a few inches apart, looking up the numbers on the panel, shifting impatiently as the elevator went up. Seconds later, they were there and they left the elevator without looking at each other. They walked down the corridor and before they knew it, they were on front of her door.

She'd gotten her key out on the way but when they got there, the excitement had her hands shaking so much that she couldn't quite get the key in the keyhole. Booth stepped behind her, put one hand on her waist and another over the hand that held the key; together they put the key in, opened the lock and then turned the knob. Once the door was opened, they pulled the key out before pushing the door open then, using his hand on her waist, he walked them inside.

As soon as they were in, he shifted around until he was in front of her and walked her back until the door slammed shut and she was pressed against it, her bag sliding off her shoulder to join her key ring on the floor. And the passion they'd largely ignored the past seven years, and tightly controlled when they couldn't ignore, finally burst free.

They were kissing before the echo of the door closing had died down. Booth cradled Brennan's face in both of his hands while she buried one of her hands in his hair and fisted the other on the collar of his trench coat.

"Booth," she gasped when they came up for air and he immediately started to kiss his way down her neck.

"You taste so good," he told her as he nipped the place where her neck met her shoulder, making her shudder.

His hands, which had let go of her face, had started wandering and were presently undoing the tie of her trench coat. As soon as it was undone, he began to push it off her shoulders. It caught on her bent elbows and she briefly pushed away from the door and took her hands off his body to shrug her coat off. The coat slipped to the floor unnoticed as their hands got busy again. He started unbuttoning her blouse while she impatiently undid the belt of his coat.

But as much as she wanted him and as involved as she was, something about the speed which with it was all happening felt somehow wrong to her. Her new determination to not run from her feelings but instead try to understand and act on them meant that she had to at least vocalize what she was feeling.

"Shouldn't we," she broke off on a moan when his hands pushed her blouse out of the way and closed over her bra-covered breasts.

"Shouldn't we what, Bones?" he asked as, nipping her jaw. After squeezing her breasts, his hands moved to her back to unhook her bra.

"We should probably … ummm … should slow down. Ahhh," she cried out, her head fell against the door when he started kissing and licking the top of her breasts.

"Slow down?" he repeated, looking up at her for a few seconds. "Bones, we've waited seven years; don't you think that's slow enough?"

"When you put it that way," Brennan panted and, deciding that he was right and that seven years was more than long enough, not that she was really a fan of going slow usually, anyway, she let Booth push her shirt and bra off of her shoulders before she tugged his tie free and then started undoing his shirt's buttons.

Booth, with a loud groan, pulled his shoulders back a little when she, who seemingly was now in as much a hurry as he was, started to push at his coat and shirt and let them slide down his arms. As soon as his hands were free, he unhooked and unzipped her pants and pushed them off of her hips.

"Come on up," he murmured when her pants cleared her feet. She toed off her shoes, and with the help of his hands on the back of her thighs, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around her waist. They both moaned when her hot center met his hardness. With his pants low on his hips, the only things separating them were his briefs and her panties.

"Oh, God, Booth," she groaned and the sound of her voice saying his name in a sultry and needy tone almost made him lose the little control he had left. In an attempt to stop himself from losing it, he plunged his hands into her hair and angled her head for their deepest kiss yet. For a few moments they lost each other in the kiss, while their hips writhed against each other.

"Bedroom," Brennan gasped when they finally came up for air. "We should go to the bedroom."

"Why?" he asked, sounding distracted and more interested in shifting her up and burying his face between her breasts. "I think this is working just fine. Besides, aren't you supposed to be the sexually adventurous one?"

"I just thought … our first time should be about more than … a sexual adventure," she sounded hesitant and vulnerable and not at all like her normal self, which made Booth look up at her. When their eyes met, the mood of the moment altered; it was still passionate but now the emotions that had tied them together for the last seven years and, which had been somewhat overwhelmed in the heat of the moment, were once again in the forefront.

"You're right," Booth said quietly, tenderly brushing her hair behind her ear. "Our first time should be special." He smiled at her and leaned forward for a quick, gently kiss. "Bedroom this way?" he asked and started walking towards the back the apartment.

"Yes," she nodded and made sure her arms and legs were wrapped tightly around his neck and waist. He shifted her a little in his arms as he slowed down to toe off his shoes and let his pants fall down. He stepped out of them once they had pooled around his feet and resumed his walk to her bedroom.

"But just so you know," he told her, walking into her bedroom, "we're not done with the door." He set her down next to her bed and took a step back to push down his briefs and take off his socks.

"I look forward to it," she grinned at him as she let her panties fall down. "But first," she added and walked forward to put her arms around his neck. "I believe we have some laws of physics to break."

Booth was confused for a moment but grinned when he remembered their four year old conversation.

"One miracle coming right up," he told her as he picked her up and set her down on the bed.

Hours or minutes later, who can really tell when you're living a miracle, they were lying wrapped in each other's arms, trying to regain their breath.

"What do you think?" he looked at her lying on his chest and asked. "Did we break the laws of physics?" She shifted until she was looking up at him.

"If I believed in your heaven," she told him seriously, "I'd say that I just saw a glimpse of it." He grinned and leaned up to meet her lips in a kiss as she leaned down. They laid down in silence for a while, savoring the peace and contentment that finally being together had brought. But after a while, that peace and contentment made Brennan uneasy and she stiffened enough for Booth to notice.

"Bones?" he asked. "What is it? What's wrong?" She said nothing for a moment, just laid there, silently counting and naming his ribs over and over. "Bones?"

"I just …," she began and then took a deep breath and looked up at him, "Booth, do you think I'm a bad person?"

"What?" he cried out as he shifted and moved until he was sitting up. "How … why would you even ask me that, Bones?"

"Because, Booth, I'm … we're here, happy," as she too sat up, "but Mr. Nigel Murray only died yesterday. How can I be this happy so soon? He was my intern; a brilliant young man, whose life was cut short much too soon. He had so much potential and now, it's all gone – almost in the blink of an eye, it was just all gone. It is just such a waste and sad and tragic. And yet, I'm happy; I don't think I've ever been this happy. What kind a person am I?"

"Ah, Bones," Booth said as he pulled her to his side for a one arm hug. "You're just a normal person, Bones. No, scratch that – you're an extraordinary person, with an amazingly big heart. And the fact that you're wondering what kind of person you are because you're happy tells me just how big your heart is."

"How can that be true, Booth?" she asked, not at all comforted. "Vincent's dead and I'm happy."

"But you're not happy he's dead, are you?" he asked.

"Of course not," she adamantly denied as she pulled away.

"His death is a tragedy, Bones," he told her, "but you're not the one that's dead. Your life didn't stop and being happy because something's good happened to you doesn't make you a bad person. You can feel horrible about his death and still be happy about us finally getting together."

"It's just … it doesn't feel right," she tried to explain a feeling she didn't really understand. "You don't think we're together because he died, do you?"

"Of course not," his answer was immediate. "His death is not the reason we finally took the plunge, Bones. If a tragedy was all we needed, then we'd have gotten together years ago. How many bad things have happened to both of us in the last seven years? More than a few and yet, we never took that step. Because we weren't ready back then."

"But we're ready now," it was both a question and a statement.

"Yes," he nodded. "We're ready now; we've been steadily moving in this direction for a while now, Bones. We'd have gotten here soon – with or without a tragedy. Vincent's death might have been the catalyst but it's not the reason." When she still looked conflicted, he sighed. "Bones, being happy right now doesn't make you a bad person. I mean, is not like you're glad he's dead, is it?"

"But that's just it, Booth," she informed him quietly. "I am."

"You're glad he's dead?" he asked, confused and surprised.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm not glad he's dead but … I'm glad it wasn't you. As bad as I feel about Vincent dying; I'm just so thankful and glad that it wasn't you that took that bullet – that it wasn't you that bled out in front of me. I don't think I could have stood that again." When her voice started to break and she started to cry, Booth pulled her in to a tight hug. "I really don't … I don't know what I'd have done if I'd have seen you die again."

"Oh, Bones," he whispered into her hair as he rocked her.

"How can I not be a bad person," she sobbed into his shoulder, "when I'm so relieved it was him and not you who died?"

"If you're a bad person," he said, "then I am too."

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I mean that as sick and sad as I am about Vincent's death, I'm also incredibly relieved that it wasn't you that took that bullet yesterday."

"Why would it have been me?" she frowned at him. "That bullet was meant for you, not me."

"Yes," he nodded. "But who would I have given that phone to if Vincent hadn't been in the lab? Most of the time, it's just the two of us and, if that had been the case yesterday, I would have given you that phone to keep Broadsky on the line without thinking about it. I would have, in effect, painted a big target on your back. I could have just as well pulled the trigger myself. And I – I couldn't have lived with that knowledge."

"What?" Brennan shouldn't have been surprised at that, but for some reason she was. "It wasn't your fault, Booth. You know that; you told Sweets that you didn't blame yourself - that you blamed the guy that pulled the trigger."

"I know; intellectually, I do know that. And, as things stand right now, I can just about make myself believe it. But, if it'd been you lying there in a pool of your own blood," he shook his head, "I … I know I couldn't have stood that. I wouldn't have been able to come back from that."

"But Booth," scared at what he was implying, she knelt and leaned forward to take his hands, looking at him intensely, "you have Parker. You have to be okay so you can take care of him."

"And he'd probably be the only reason I'd get up in the morning," he shrugged. "But kids grow up and soon they no longer need you and if you'd have died yesterday ..."

"No, Booth, shhh," she placed her fingers on his lips to silence him before she threw her arms around his neck, "I'm right here; we both are. Nothing happened; we're both alright."

"I know," he nodded as he tightened his arms around her. He held her for a few moments, trying to regain his equilibrium, before he spoke again. "And that's my point, Bones. We're alive and we have to live our lives; there's no shame in being happy. We're humans and that means we're complicated beings; we can feel more than one emotion at a time, even conflicting ones. We can be happy about being together and sad about Vincent's death; we can be excited about our future and we can regret the loss for Vincent's family. It doesn't have to be one or the other, Bones. Life isn't always black and white; in fact, it rarely is. But you know that because you don't believe in absolutes."

"But you do," she argued, if possible, she was even more confused than at the beginning of the discussion.

"When it comes to good and bad and values and morality," Booth specified, "yeah, I do. But when it comes to feelings there is no right and wrong; they are what they are and you have to take them as they are. As long as you're not hurting anyone, or yourself, then you should just try to understand them, accept them and try to life your live being true to yourself."

"I think feelings might just be more confusing than morality," she grumbled.

"They probably are at that," Booth chuckled as he settled back down with her in his arms. But then, because the wounds of the past two years hadn't completely healed yet, he had to ask, "but you're not sorry that you're giving us, these feelings between us, a chance, are you?"

"No," and the sureness and speed of her answer reassured him more than the answer itself. "It might be confusing and it might hurtful at times but I believe it is more than worth it."

"Yes, it is," he sighed in relief and agreement. "Are you okay?"

"I … I know that you say that I have no reason to feel guilty and I even agree with you but …"

"But you still feel guilty," he finished for her when she trailed off. She nodded and he said, "That's also normal, Bones. It's called survivor's guilt and you're going to feel it for a while; you might never quite stop feeling it completely. In addition, he was your intern; you were responsible for him and he died in front of you. It's natural that you feel some responsibility for his death – I do and, I'm sure, Cam does too. Those emotions are normal; you just need to keep them in perspective and not let them overcome you."

"I think I would rather concentrate on us," she admitted in a whisper, "and stop thinking about his death."

"That's probably a good idea," he agreed. "We shouldn't forget him but fixating on his death won't help him and only hurt us. If anything, what we should take from his death is that there are no guarantees in life and we should take advantage of every moment because we never know when it'll all end."

There were quite for a moment before she shifted until she was lying on top of him.

"I love you," she announced softly; an announcement that was received with the biggest smile she'd ever seen on his face.

"I love you, too," he told her as he flipped them on the bed so that she was beneath him once more. "What do think about trying for another miracle?" he asked. She grinned up at him and wrapped her arms around him. And then they broke the laws of physics once more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**A/N: **I'm sorry for this being so late, but here's the last chapter of this little fic: my attempt to explain the events and Booth's actions after the 100th episode and the end of season 6. I want to thank Mendebar for all her help betaing and keeping me in canon since I haven't really watched most of those episodes. I hope you guys like it and let me know; I put a lot of effort into this chapter and it turned into just about the longest I've written, and for those of you that have read my stuff before, that is saying something. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

"_I__'__m __pregnant__ … __you__'__re__ the__ father,__" _the words went around and around his mind while he just stood there frozen, staring at her with what was sure to be a big, cheesy grin, until he was finally able to break out of the paralysis and he blinked at her.

"Are you … are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded, "you're the fa…" she started to repeat but he waved that away.

"Of course I am," he said, as if that wasn't even a question, and she released the breath she hadn't known she was holding. "I mean, are you sure you're pregnant?"

"Yes," she nodded once more. "I am." There was no reason to mention the four home tests she'd taken that had come back positive or the physical symptoms she'd been experiencing. "I do have an appointment with my OB/GYM the day after tomorrow."

"Well, I hope you don't mind the company, Bones," he told her before she could even begin to ask him if he wanted to come with her, "Because I plan on going with you to every appointment." And then it seemed to hit him all over again as he whispered, "you're pregnant."

"Yes, I am," she repeated and the next thing she knew, he was lifting her off her feet and spinning her around, repeating, 'we're having a baby – you're having my baby."

"Booth," she laughingly protested and he immediately put her down.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized as he looked her over. His hand hovered over her stomach, not sure whether he should touch her or not. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Booth," she assured him, sounding just a bit exasperated. "I'm pregnant, not sick. And I am not made of glass; I won't break."

"Still," he said, grinning up at her. "You should probably avoid sudden movements and carrying anything heavy and …"

"Booth," she said firmly, stopping him before he got completely carried away, "I am NOT going to break."

"Okay, okay," he acquiesced before he engulfed her in a bear hug. "We're having a baby, Bones."

"Yes, we are," she smiled into his neck. "You're happy?" she asked because she had to be sure.

"Of course," he answered immediately. "How could I not be happy? How about you? Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," she answered slowly. "A little overwhelmed; I wasn't really expecting this. We took precautions …"

"Nothing is a hundred percent certain, Bones, except abstinence – and we haven't exactly been abstaining, have we? Besides, you know my little swimmers are fast and mobile."

"Apparently, they're very fast and mobile," she half-grumbled. He just grinned and shrugged.

"Are you happy, Bones?" he asked her, hoping and needing to hear she was.

"Yes, I am," she answered and it was sure and fast enough to convince him that she was telling the truth. "But, I think that there are some thing we should talk about, don't you?"

"Things we need to talk about? Yeah, I guess there are. We should probably talk about where we're going to live, what we're going to do about work …"

"Yes, we should talk about all that," she agreed, "But after; there are other things we should talk about first."

"I … yeah, okay," he couldn't be sure what she wanted to talk about, but he had a pretty good idea. It was the talk that he'd been hoping they could put off indefinitely but it seemed that he wouldn't be that lucky. "You want to go up to my place?"

She nodded and they walked towards his place in silence. Unlike the silence in his SUV four weeks ago when they were on their way to her place, this silence wasn't exactly comfortable even though it wasn't quite uncomfortable either. There was a feeling as if they were on the edge of a cliff and, depending on how they took the next step, they could either soar high or crash and burn.

When they arrived at his apartment, he waved her to the living room while he continued to the kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked her. "I think we still have some juice."

"No," she shook her head. "I finished the last of the orange juice this morning."

"But there's still some of that juice Parker likes," he noted after checking the refrigerator.

"That's not juice, Booth," she disagreed, "that's sugar in a bottle. You really shouldn't let Parker drink that."

"Yeah, I'm sure right, Bones," he said, more to placate her than out of any real agreement. "So, that's a no on the juice … let's see what else is there …"

"Booth, I don't really need anything …," she started to protest but he wasn't listening to her.

"You can't have any alcohol now, can you?" she seemed to understand he wasn't really asking her so she just kept quiet and let him do what he will. "No coffee either … I guess that just leaves water. Is water okay, Bones?" as his voice went up a little, she assumed that this time he actually expected her to answer.

"Yes, Booth, water's fine."

"Here you go," he handed her the water and sat next to her.

"You're not drinking beer?" she asked when she noticed that he too had a bottle of water instead of his customary beer bottle.

"Nah," he shook his head. "I'd thought I'd join you in drinking water."

"Booth you don't have to change your diet just because I have to," she protested. "What you eat or don't eat won't affect the health of the fetus."

"Don't say fetus, Bones," he winced. "It's a baby." She opened her mouth to insist that fetus was the correct term but closed it, deciding it wasn't worth arguing over. "Besides," he continued, "that's our baby you're carrying – my baby; the least I can do is join you in your drink of choice."

"I see," she nodded seriously. "Does that mean that you'd forego alcohol and coffee for the next year?"

"Year?" he asked. "Did I miss something? Doesn't pregnancy still last nine months? Has that change in the last ten years?"

"No, of course it hasn't changed, Booth," she rolled her eyes. "But I plan on breast-feeding and that means that I'll have to stay away from the caffeine and alcohol for months after I give birth."

"I see," he unscrewed the bottle of water and took a sip. He made a slight face at the taste or lack of same and decided to modify his offer somewhat. "Well, maybe I'll just cut down to a couple of times a week."

"That's fine, Booth," she nodded with a slight grin before turning serious again and shifting her gaze to the bottle in her hands.

"So," he said, "you wanted to talk." He shifted on the couch until he was facing her, one leg under his body and his arm along the back of the couch, and gave her his complete attention.

"Yes," she nodded again and leaned forward to place her unopened bottle on the coffee table. She'd thought about this moment more than once before and she'd had more than half a dozen ways to start the conversation but when it came down to it, she couldn't remember a single one. In the end, she voiced the thing that worried her the most. "Am I your second choice?"

Unfortunately for Booth, he'd just taken a sip of his water and ended up choking on it. He leaned forward to avoid getting water down his front and ended leaving a nice puddle on the floor. He very slowly put the cap back on his bottle and placed it on the table next to hers and just as slowly turned back to face her.

"What did you just ask me?" he looked at her in disbelief. He must have heard her wrong; he was sure he'd heard her wrong.

"I asked if I was second choice," She repeated and when he just looked at her in silence, she went on, "am I a consolation prize? Is our relationship a rebound one?" He was ready to vehemently deny all of the questions but the last phrase threw for a loop and had him blinking at her in surprise.

"Rebound? Where did you hear that?" he asked her.

"Angela explained it to me," she answered and had him narrowing his eyes.

"Angela said our relationship was rebound?" he couldn't believe that was true.

"No," she shook her head. "She used it in a different context months ago but she explained the concept and I thought it might apply to us."

"Well, it doesn't," he denied firmly. "Not at all. I can't believe you even asked me that."

"Why not?" she wanted to know. "Can't you see how I might have some … insecurities," and wasn't that hard to say? "about the strength of your feelings for me?"

"No," he refused to consider that she might have a point, "I can't."

"Booth," she said, trying not to lose her patience. "Two years ago you told me you loved me; you told me that you wanted to spend the next 30, 40, 50 years with me, that you knew I was the one the moment we met and yet, in almost the same breath, when you didn't get the answer you wanted, when I didn't act like you wanted, you informed me that you had to move on."

"That's not fair, Bones," he protested. "I never wanted you to be anyone but who you are. The only thing I wanted was for you to be open to new possibilities and for you to admit that there is more to life than what can be proved in the lab or found in textbooks." She really couldn't argue that because, besides Angela, Booth was the one person that had always taken her as she was.

"Be that as it may," she conceded, "the fact remains that less than a year after you declared your love for me you were in a serious relationship with someone else - someone whom you also claimed to love. Someone you cared for so much that you proposed marriage to her. And I know that marriage is not something you take lightly, Booth. To you, marriage is a sacrament, a lifetime commitment. For you to propose means that you were ready and willing to spend your life with her." She paused to see if he would say something and when he just stared at his hands, she continued.

"And here we are, a few months later, I'm pregnant and you tell me you still love me," she paused again, pick up the bottle of water, opened it and took a sip of water to give him another chance to speak up. When he didn't, she sighed and kept talking, "You really can't see why I'm finding it difficult to reconcile the idea of a love of a lifetime with the reality of how feeble feelings can be?"

"Don't you mean how feeble my feelings can be?" he challenged her.

"Booth," she sighed. "I'm … I'm just trying to understand how it is that one moment you can claim that I am 'the one' and a year later you're ready to marry someone else."

"It's …" he tried to explain but had no idea where to even begin. "It's complicated."

"Oh, I'm sure it is," she said, sounding more bitter than she'd meant to. She actually hadn't known she was that bitter about it. When he turned his head sharply at her tone, she put up her hand. "I didn't mean it like that," she backtracked because the last thing she wanted was for them to get into a fight.

"Just what did you expect me to do, huh, Bones?" he asked in a hard tone. "What the hell did you think I'd do?" he asked as he suddenly pushed off the couch and stalked towards the window. "I handed you my heart on a platter and you flatly rejected it; you told me that we were too different for a relationship between us to work, that you weren't going to change and that you rather not risk our partnership. And you're the kind of the person that says what you mean and very rarely changes your mind, so what was I supposed to do? Sit around, hoping and praying that you'd have a change of heart? Happy with whatever emotional scraps you tossed my way?" When he saw her wide eyed, anxious face, he took a deep breath and turned to look out the window. A few moments later, he calmed down enough to continued talking.

"I stand by what I said that night," he said in a somewhat calmer voice, still looking out the window and it was clear to Brennan he was still agitated. "You _are_ the love of my life and I knew that the moment we met. But you turned me down, Bones. You categorically turned me down; there was no room for interpretation or doubt. You shattered all my dreams in one fell swoop and I guess …" he sighed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes fixed on some point outside. "I guess that was the moment I accepted the fact that love doesn't always conquer all and that you don't always end up with the girl of your dreams." After another few moments of silence, he finally turned around and leaned back on the windowsill. He crossed his arms and looked at her.

"All I ever wanted, Bones, was to have someone to love, who loved me back," he told her quietly. "Someone to spend my life with, to share a home with, to go to sleep with and to wake up next to – and I wanted that someone to be you. But you rejected the mere idea of it and I guess I could have given up on that desire altogether but I didn't want to grow old alone. I wanted to have someone to come home to; accepting that wasn't going to be you was hard, it damn near broke my heart but I had to accept it and accepting it, I had to move on. I wasn't going to spend my life with you, but I was determined I'd find someone else to spend it with, so, I guess, I went out to look for second best."

"But you told me Hannah wasn't a consolation prize," she argued.

"I know what I told you," he said quietly, rubbing his hand over his face. God, this was just the sort of conversation he'd been hoping to avoid. "And at that moment, I believed it. But ...," he shook his head before he leaned it back against the wall. "God, Bones, you have no idea how much you hurt me."

"That was never my intention, Booth," she hurriedly asserted. "In fact, the only reason I told you I didn't want to try to be more than partners was because I didn't think I could give you want you needed and I _didn__'__t_ want to hurt you."

"Yeah, well, it didn't work out that way," he pointed out. "All I knew was what you told me – that you didn't think a relationship between us would work and you didn't want to risk our partnership and then, a few weeks later, you came and told me you wanted out of the partnership, too."

"That's not what happened, Booth," she protested, leaning forward in her haste to make her point. "I didn't want to break up our partnership; I just needed a break from so much suffering. We see so much of the bad things humans can do to each other that I just wanted to get back to the science and remember what it was that drew me to this profession in the first place."

"All I knew," he repeated, "was that you rejected the chance of a romantic relationship and then you rejected our partnership and then you rejected our friendship."

"What?" she exclaimed, sitting up straight in shock. "When did I ever do that?"

"When you didn't write for seven months," was the flat answer. "I waited and waited …"

"I meant to write," she tried to explain but it was hard because she wasn't quite sure why she hadn't written. "I just … I don't really …," she just wasn't any good at explaining or apologizing and in the end she got defensive and turned it around on him. "You could have written too, you know?" she argued and almost flinched at the look he sent her.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But you were the one that wanted to leave and I was the one that left the base without permission to come see you off at the airport. I guess I thought the next move was up to you and that the least that you could do was send me a few lines telling me you were alright. But you never did. At first I thought you just needed time to settle in before you wrote, so I waited; I kept waiting just one more day, sure I'll hear from you - but then one day became two and then three and then days became weeks and by then I was too angry and … hurt to write." He sighed and shook his head. "And I wondered why I should care about our friendship when it was obvious you didn't?"

"That's not true, Booth," she denied once more. "I've always cared about our friendship."

"I know that now, and maybe somewhere in my mind I knew it then too, but it didn't feel that way. And I was tired, Bones," he after a moment's pause, "I was tired of hurting and of feeling angry and of feeling guilty for feeling angry and of having to suppress and ignore that anger because I didn't think I had any right to it. I was just tired of all the complications and the drama so I did what you always advocate: I compartmentalized, I shoved everything I felt for you into the corner of my mind and did my best to ignore it. Something which isn't that hard to do when you're in the middle of a war and have other, more basic things to worry about – like making it from one day to the next, staying alive and teaching my men how to stay alive. And then …"

"And then you met Hannah," she finished for him, "And had even less reason to think of me." It was the logical, if not exactly pleasant, assumption.

"Yeah," he shifted his eyes as that wasn't an easy thing to admit to her.

"And she was everything I wasn't," she added and his answering chuckle wasn't exactly cheerful."

"Oh, if it had only been that easy, Bones," he shook his head. "No, she was just different enough from you to be interesting and similar enough to you to be irresistible – but what she really was, Bones, was uncomplicated. There was no drama, no history or emotional baggage – on either side. It was … easy being with her; there were no demands, no anxiety."

"A no strings relationship?" she asked and he paused for a moment before nodding shortly.

"At least at the beginning, I suppose you could call it that," he granted and when he noticed the look she was wearing, he asked, "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just that I've had those kinds of relationships but I didn't think it'd be something you'd do." She hesitated before she added, "Just like I didn't think that having sex against a tree was your style - it didn't seem to fit with what I knew of you."

"Because you thought I was a prude?" he asked and despite the seriousness of the conversation, a small smile crossed his face. "But now you know that I'm not a prude at all, right?"

"Yes," she agreed quietly. "You're not a prude." She actually flushed a little when she remembered some of the things they'd done in the last month. "Which is why I don't understand why you were always so uncomfortable whenever I mentioned sex?"

"Because, Bones," he answered patiently, "the last thing I wanted to do was talk about sex with you when all I wanted was to _have_ sex with you. So, yeah, I was uncomfortable."

"I see," she nodded slowly.

"Yeah," he shrugged again before he addressed her observation. "It's not like I'm proud of it – the no strings relationship, but at the time it felt," he hesitated as he searched for the right word, "good. I wasn't exactly myself, I was cut off from my son, my partner and best friend, my job – everything that had grounded me for the past few years, I was trying to get over you, or at least move on and I was back in the middle of a war, the closest thing to hell we have on Earth. And she was there and she was … she was a ray of sunlight when things looked bleak. She was something good to hold onto in the middle of all that misery, a way to escape the reality and just enjoy what pleasure could be found in the moment. My mistake was in thinking the relationship could be more than what it was."

"What do you mean?" she frowned in confusion.

"I mean that relationships that begin under those circumstances rarely work back in the real world," he explained. "When the main reason you get together with someone is that you're trying to escape an unpleasant situation, chances are good that you're going to let go those little things that, under other circumstances, would annoy you, and you're going to ignore those not so little things that would be deal breakers. And I think that deep down I knew that and I just figured that the relationship would run its course before my year was up."

"But it didn't," it was more a statement than a question.

"No, it didn't" he agreed, "Probably because I didn't stay the full year. Everything happened so fast after Caroline called that there was no time for closure; I was still under the illusion that it was real and we promised that we'd make it work. I told her that she should come see me in DC as soon as she could. And then I came back and everything was the exactly the same." He paused and took a few steps to the coffee table, picked up his bottle and took a sip of water. He shook his head and perched on the arm of the sofa, with a rueful smile.

"I had just spent months convincing myself that I was over everything that had happened between us," he told her, "and there you were, the same Bones I'd fallen for so long ago and you wanted everything to be the same as before. But I didn't want that; I was sure that I had moved on and I _didn__'__t_ want the same old thing. We might have been back, and we might have been working as partners again but that didn't mean that everything had to be same. I'd had found someone else, after all, hadn't I? So, I shoved whatever I still felt for you back to the deep recess of my mind and did my best to convince you and everyone else that whatever there had been between us, aside from work, _was_ over."

"And Hannah arriving made that easier," again it was not a question but a statement of fact.

"Oh, yeah," he agreed. "She was a beautiful, smart, funny, successful woman and she wanted _me_. She had actually left her job and followed me home because she _wanted_ me. It was a hell of an ego boost when I needed one. And I guess I just wanted to show it off. I wanted you to see that someone wanted me, that someone thought I was worth the risk." Implied was the fact that Brennan herself hadn't even wanted to try giving Booth a chance.

"Booth, that's not," implied or not, she couldn't let that go without trying to explain but he shook his head.

"I know, Bones, I know," he cut her off. "I'm just telling you how I felt." She nodded and a thought crossed her mind that she didn't fully believe but couldn't quite banish either.

"You … you weren't trying to make me jealous, were you?" she asked.

"Of course not," was his immediate answer. He paused for a moment and then, more thoughtfully, added, "not consciously, at least. The last thing I would ever want to do is purposely hurt you. And you gotta remember, Bones, you turned me down, you said you didn't want to be more than friends and partners. I didn't think I could make you jealous – or hurt you, not that way."

"But you did hurt me," she said so quietly that he almost didn't hear her.

"I know," he said just as quietly. "The night you told me that you regretted saying no …" he shook his head. "I … I didn't know what to think. Part of me was angry; why couldn't you have figured it out a year ago and save us all that suffering? Part of me thought: good, now she can know how it feels. I'm not proud of that part and to tell you the truth, I did my best to ignore both parts because to acknowledge either one would have meant acknowledging that I still had feelings for you. But mostly I was sad, because I did know how it felt and I didn't want that for you, and I was regretful and confused." He shook his head again, pushed away from the couch and walked back towards the window.

"I talked to Hannah," he continued, "thinking that would somehow ease the knot in my stomach, but it didn't really. After that, despite my best efforts, things started falling apart. But I had spent months convincing myself and everyone else that I was happy and in love and I wasn't about to admit I'd been wrong." That admission had her eyes widening in surprise and she stood up and took a few steps closer to him.

"You weren't in love with her?" Brennan asked, looking for clarification. "You told me you were."

"I did love her," Booth answered, once again leaning against the windowsill. "But no, I wasn't in love with her. I told you once that we can love more than one person at a time but love one best – and for me, that was always you, Bones, not her. I cared for her, we had fun and I was grateful that she'd been there for me at a really low point in my life but all of that was nowhere close to what I felt and feel for you."

"Then why did you propose to her?" she asked, more than a little confused.

"At the time," he answered slowly, "I thought I wanted to marry her. I thought I was ready for that commitment; that that was the future I wanted to secure. But in retrospect, it might have had more to do with Sweets telling me that he didn't want to end up like me, old and alone, and my wanting to prove him wrong than with any genuine desire to want to spend the rest of my life with her. And I think it was also because I …," with a sharp jerk of his head, he trailed off and pushed off the wall. He walked towards the couch and started pacing its length, visually agitated; she turned to keep him in her field of view.

"What? You what, Booth?" she prodded him when the silence got to be too much for her. At the sound of her voice, he froze for a moment before he turned and leaned his hands on the end of the couch. He dropped his head between his arms and closed his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths.

"I knew her, Bones," he finally said, looking up at her. She frowned, not understanding where he was going with that line of thought. He sighed and straightened up, before he continued, "I might not have known her as well as I know you but I knew her and I knew she wasn't the marrying type. I even knew that she was restless and missing her job in Afghanistan. I knew her, Bones," he repeated.

"I don't … I don't really understand what you're trying to say, Booth," she told him, shaking her head in bewilderment. "If you knew she wasn't the marrying type, then why did you propose?" she asked once more.

"Because, subconsciously, I wanted her to say no," he answered and she froze in surprise, her eyes as wide as they could get. "I knew, subconsciously, that things weren't what they should be, that the relationship had gone as far as it was going to and that there was no future in it. But I couldn't be the one that ended it, not after I've spent all that time and effort telling everyone how happy I was with her. So, I … maneuvered things so that she'd be the one to end it, she'd be the bad guy and I could … save face."

"But she didn't end it," she argued; even though she was more than surprised at what she was learning, she couldn't stop herself from pointing out what she thought were errors or inconsistencies. "She rejected your proposal but you were the one that ended the relationship. You were the one that told her she had to leave, weren't you?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "but how could I stay with her after she said no? Who would blame me for breaking up with someone that had rejected me? It was the best of both worlds – I could end up the relationship, without it, really, being my fault."

"That also doesn't sound like you," she said, looking at him as if she'd never seen him before. Booth grimaced at the look she was giving him and shook his head in regret. This was why he hadn't really wanted to talk about this; he didn't want her good opinion of him to change. He moved around the couch and flopped down onto it with a heavy sigh.

"I know it doesn't," he agreed. "And it's not like I'm proud of it, Bones. There are a lot of things about the way I behaved when Hannah was around that I'm not proud of – this is right on top of the list. It was cowardly and selfish: two things I've tried very hard all my life not to be. The only thing I can say is that it wasn't conscious; I didn't plan any of it. In fact, it took a long time and a lot of soul searching," he winced at the phrase, "to finally understand what had happened." Brennan nodded, trying to understand what he was saying and rearrange her memories and thoughts of that time, factoring in this new information. She wasn't too keen on labeling actions conscious or subconscious; it sounded too much like psychology for her liking. However, since she too had acted in ways she couldn't rationally explain more than once in the past, she couldn't completely discard it.

"What would you have done if she'd said yes?" she asked and he shook his head.

"I haven't got a clue," he answered with a twist of his lips that in no way resemble a smile. "I'd like to think that I'd have come to my senses before the whole mess got too far, but I honestly don't know what I would have done."

"I see," she said slowly, not sure she saw anything at all but doing her best to be understanding and non-judgmental. She wasn't sure how she knew it, but she was sure that was the last thing he needed at the moment. She didn't want to keep questioning him but there was one other thing she wanted to know. "If you were setting her up…" she looked at him to see if she'd used the correct term and when he nodded with a small smile, she continued, "to say no, why were you so angry and hurt when she did?"

"I told you, Bones," he sighed tiredly, "that I didn't know that was what I was doing. All I knew back then was that I had asked a woman, for the third time, to spend her life with me and, for the third time, I had been turned down. So, yeah, I was hurt and angry; no one likes to be turned down. And to be turned down three times?" He shook his head. "That kind of record makes a man think there's something wrong with him, that maybe he's unlovable."

"Booth, that's not true," she protested at once. She couldn't help but feel sad that her own rejection, even if it had been for his own good, had played a part in making him feel like that.

"True or not, that's how I felt," he shrugged as he repeated a sentiment he'd expressed earlier. "And that's why I was hurt and part of the reason I was so angry."

"Part of the reason?" she asked, once again confused. It seemed that she'd spent most of the last hour in a state of confusion. For all that she thought she knew Booth, she would never had guess half of what she'd just learned.

"Yeah," he nodded and moved forward on the couch to lean his elbows on his knees. "I think that once I had, what I thought was a legitimate reason to be angry, that opened the door for all the anger I'd been suppressing and ignoring since that night outside the Hoover. For once, I gave myself permission to feel angry – and I guess I wallowed in it for a while."

"So, you _were_ angry with me?" even though he'd said he wasn't, it sounded like maybe he had been angry at her after all. He hesitated for a moment before he half shrugged, half nodded.

"I was angry at everyone, Bones," he explained. "At you, at Hannah, at Angela and Hodgins for finally getting their act together and being in love, happy and expecting a baby, at Cam for making me come back early and for being happy with Paul. But mostly I was angry at myself, for doing the same thing all over again and being back where I'd started: alone, angry, bitter and facing a dark future by myself." He paused for a moment before he smiled and looked back at her; it was a small smile but it was the first time he'd really smiled since they began talking. It was also such a tender, loving and sweet smile that something inside her just melted.

"But then, Bones," he told her with that soft smile, "I realized that it wasn't the same as before – at all, because you and I weren't exactly the same and _we_ weren't in the same place as before. It was almost as if we'd switched places: I was the one that was hurt, angry and wanted to ignore what was going on and you were the one that was there for me, not asking for anything, just offering me an ear if I wanted to talk and a shoulder if I wanted to cry. It turned out that I wasn't alone after all because you were there."

"But you were angry for a long time, Booth," she said as a question as she slowly walked to sit down next to him. She couldn't really stay away from him when he looked at her like that.

"Yeah, I was," he nodded as he shifted on the couch so that he was facing her. "It took me a while to realize that you were there and wouldn't be going anywhere and an even longer while to fully believe it. A lot had happened between us, Bones, and I guess it just … it took me longer than it should have to realize how much you'd changed. But I got it, Bones. I think I finally started to understand it on Valentine's Day, when you refused all those dates and chose to spend the evening with me, even though I'd told you I only wanted us to be partners and you even gave me the best Valentine's Day present I'd ever gotten."

"The best present?" she asked.

"Yeah, don't you remember? You brought the 1920's machine guns for us to fire," he reminded her.

"I remember," she nodded. "It's just - machine guns are the best presents you've gotten for Valentine's Day?"

"For me, at that moment, there wouldn't have been a better gift," he told her sincerely. "And you knew that," he added, reaching out to grasp her hand, "because you know me and because you pay attention to me. It meant a lot, Bones." He smiled softly at her.

"Then there was the second time Broadsky appeared," he added after a moment, "when you told me that you were standing right beside me, just like always, like you always will. I know there was nothing earth-shattering about that because for most of the past decade you had been right next to me but it _felt_ earth shattering, Bones. Partly because you've never acknowledged it out loud; but, mostly because I know how you feel about promises of future behavior, how you don't like making them because you never know what the future will bring and yet you all but promised that you'll always be next to me. Given everything we'd been through and where our relationship was at that point in time, it just ..." He looked at her solemnly, "it started to heal the worst of the hurt, Bones."

"But you were still so angry afterwards, Booth," she pointed out with a slight frown. "I mean, you even threw a bag of frozen peas at Sweets when he tried to get you to talk about Hannah and our relationship a few weeks later."

"Yeah, I was still angry," he nodded. "But not as angry as I wanted to believe I was."

"Why would you want to believe you were angrier than you were?" Brennan asked.

"Because being angry is easier than being hurt," was the simple answer. "And because it was comforting and even … empowering." At her look of wide-eyed surprise, he shrugged again, "I told you I was wallowing; but I stopped after we talked because that's when I realized that we were finally on the same page. We might not have been on the same line but we were both, finally, sure we wanted to be together – at that same time. It wasn't going to be easy or immediate and I was still angry but, for the first time in a long time, I once again believed that we _would_ get there. So, I stopped being angry or, I guess I should say, I stopped focusing on it and just let it go because I wanted a future with you."

"But you still kept your distance," she commented. "Things started to get easier but nothing really changed."

"Exactly," he agreed.

"Booth," she said in an exasperated tone of voice. She was more or less used to being confused when talking about emotions with Booth but this conversation was taking things to a whole new level.

"Bones, don't you remember how it was when we first started working together?" he asked, leaning forward and taking both of her hands in his. "How being together was just pure fun? How exhilarating and promising those moments when we connected were? How even though nothing happened, you were okay with just enjoying the moment for what it was because you were sure that something would, in time, happen?" He waited and, after a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

"That stopped though," she pointed out quietly.

"Yeah," he nodded somberly. "Somewhere along the way, we … lost our way. Being together stopped being fun and instead became a weird, heavy mix of hurt, anger and regret - full of things that went unsaid and feelings that were ignored. But thankfully, it all came back and after that blizzard, I realized that whenever we were together I was once again feeling that excitement, that exhilaration. So, I let the anger go and just enjoyed being with you. I stopped worrying about the future and the past and just let things happen as they would. I tried to force things once before and it was a disaster; I wasn't about to do it again."

"So, you decided to let fate take its course?" she asked with a twist of her lips, more to lighten things up again more than anything else.

"Yeah, I guess I did," he grinned at her, knowing she wasn't being serious. She rolled her eyes but grinned back. "And you know how I knew that I was right to do so?"

"How?" she asked.

"It was during the chupacabra case, when I claimed to have seen a yeti. You don't believe they exist but because you trust me, you believed that I believed I had seen one so you did research until you found a rational, logical explanation for what I'd seen. You used science to explain a fantastical claim. That, Bones…" he shook his, "was a perfect example of why and how we work."

"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

"It's just that we're so different," he explained, "that we shouldn't work but we do because we _make_ it work. We don't really understand where the other is coming from half the time but we accept and respect our differences; more than that, we make sure the other one fits into our view of the world. That's a priceless gift, Bones; it isn't easy, most people rarely put in the work much less make it work. But we have been making it work for more than a half a decade; we even made it through all that … mess last year. That means something, Bones; it means our partnership, our relationship means more to us than just about anything else. So, I figure that letting things develop as they would, was a good idea." He paused for a moment, uncertain whether to go on or just stop there, but if he'd gone this far. "Plus, I guess I was still a little …"

"A little what?" she asked when he trailed off.

"A little scared," he said quietly.

"Scared?" Booth wasn't one to be scared of anything. "Of what could you possibly …" she trailed off as she saw the answer in his eyes. "You were scared that I would run away again." It wasn't a question.

"You gotta admit, Bones," he told her, "that your flight reflex is very well developed; whenever anything emotional happened you ran, either literally for some dig or metaphorically by ignoring and refusing to talk about it. And I wasn't scared, really, more like just a little … wary."

"You didn't fully trust me to stay, to not ran away," it was another statement, not a question, and he shrugged and averted his eyes. His discomfort was obvious and, though he didn't confirm it, he didn't deny it either and she winced, averting her own eyes. It hurt to come face to face with his distrust; but what hurt more was to know that it was her own fault and that she couldn't blame him. Still, they were supposed to be at another place in their relationship and she had to know, "do you still feel that way now?"

"No," was the immediate answer. "God, no. It took me a while to completely trust that you weren't going to run, that you were committed to staying here, with me but I got there, Bones. I completely trust you to stay and work out whatever problems come up."

"Are you sure?" she insisted; this was important and she didn't want any misunderstandings or for him to placate her.

"Yes," again, no hesitation in his answer. "I knew you weren't going to run when you agreed to stay at my place the evening after Vincent died. I could see that you thought about arguing and I know that just a few months ago you would have said that you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and that if Broadsky used thermo-imaging to see inside the lab, then he would also be able to see inside both our apartments if he wanted to. But you didn't argue; I don't know if it was because you knew it would hit you later on and you wanted me to be close or if you knew that I needed to rest but that I wouldn't be able to if I wasn't sure you were safe. But either way it meant that you either: recognized your own emotional needs and acted on them or you recognized mine and put them above your own." He paused and smiled tenderly at her.

"And you did it by yourself, Bones," he added. "Without any prompting from me or Angela or anyone else; you not only recognized an emotionally charged situation and figured out how to deal with it in an emotionally mature way by yourself but you willingly acted on it." He hesitated a moment, wanting to add that that had been a first for her and that he was proud of her for it but he didn't want to sound patronizing, so he settled for saying, "how could I still be angry after that? Especially when later that night you came into my bedroom because you were hurt and confused and grieving and wanted me to comfort you; you came looking for me because you felt as if you were falling apart and you trusted me to hold you together until you could do it yourself. How could I not trust that you not only wanted to but you meant to stay and fight for us after that?"

"But that wasn't the first time that you comforted me, Booth," Brennan wasn't being argumentative, she was genuinely curious as to why he thought that time was different when he'd been the one she turned to in times of emotionally distress for the last few years.

"It was different this time, Bones," Booth explained. "Before, I've either been there with you whenever something upsetting happened and you'd just sort of fell into my arms in the moment of shock or I've been the one that has gone looking for you afterwards and more or less force you to accept being comforted. This was the first time you came looking for me after you've had time to calm down and think about things rationally; usually that was just when your walls went up and when you ran away, either literally or metaphorically. You not only didn't run but you came to me, Bones. As much as it meant that you were there for me after that whole mess with Hannah, having you come to me when you needed support meant even more." He shook his head brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear before softly cupping her cheek. "You'd already proven you were there for me unconditionally but that night you proved that you were, finally, letting me in all the way. I didn't need anything else, Bones, I never did."

She smiled at him but there was something about her eyes that had him lifting an eyebrow. "What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she tried to avert her face but Booth took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned it back towards him.

"Bones, what is it?" he asked again and she sighed. She didn't really want to discuss it but she knew she would feel like a fraud if she didn't; besides, he'd been nothing but open and honest all night, the least she could do was return the favor.

"It's just," Brennan hesitated before taking a deep breath, "I wasn't just being altruistic," when he looked puzzled, she explained, "after Hannah left, I wasn't being completely selfless. I mean, I don't like it when you're hurting; and I would, of course, do just about anything to make you feel better but …" She shook her head.

"When you told me that we could just be partners and nothing else," she continued, "I agreed because if that was all I could have, then I would have found a way to be happy with it but that wasn't the only reason. I think that in the back of my mind, I was also thinking that I needed to stay around because … I just couldn't make myself believe that that would be it; you're such a romantic that I couldn't accept that you would give up on love for good," she hesitated again but after, once again, reminding herself that how honest he'd been, she went on, "And I really couldn't accept that partners would be all we were or would be."

"I guess I'm not surprised," he commented. "You're not one to give up when you decide you want something."

"And I'd realized that I didn't want anything as much as I wanted you," she finished the thought and saw him smile blindingly in response. "I thought," she carried on with her point, "that once you calmed down, came to terms with the situation and weren't hurting as much, you wouldn't be opposed to a new relationship and would, maybe, even go look for one. And I decided that when that happened, I would be the one with whom you would have that relationship. I lost you once; for reasons that seemed right at the time, I let you go and then had to witness you being happy with someone else. I wasn't going to go through that again. I thought I'd lost my chance due to fear and I wasn't going to make that mistake again. I was done living with regrets." She faltered a little when she saw just how surprised he looked but then she raised her chin and finished.

"I was going to make sure to stay close so that when you were healed and were ready to love again, I would be the one you turned to. If anyone was going to get the next 30, 40 or 50 years with you, it was going to be me." Despite her earlier hesitancy, her tone was sure and firm during the last statements. "So, you see…" she was going to reiterate why her reasons for staying close hadn't been completely pure but he stopped her with a kiss that just about melted her, not inconsiderable, brain. When he finally pulled back, he was sporting a grin that rivaled the one he'd had earlier that night when she told him she was pregnant.

"Bones, that's …" he shook his head as if he simply didn't have the words to properly express himself, "that's about the sweetest and hottest thing anyone's has ever said to me. It's certainly the most romantic."

Brennan rolled her eyes; and she'd been worried he'd feel she had misled or lied to him. He was actually pleased and, if she wasn't mistaken, even flattered and smug about it. She supposed that after the damage she had, unintentionally, done to his ego, it was only right that she now gave it a boost.

"Come here," he said, pulling her into a hug and settling into a more comfortable position on the couch, with her practically lying on top of him. "We won't be able to fit this close for much longer," he commented after a moment's silence. He sounded pleased about the prospect.

"It'll still be a few months before I start showing," she argued.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "I just can't wait until I can actually feel 'Little Bones' move around in here," he said, placing his hand on top of her belly.

"Little Bones?" she repeated with a wince. She shifted around until she was looking up at him. "You are not calling the fetus by that ridiculous moniker."

"Ah, Bones," now it was his turn to grimace, "don't say fetus; it's a baby – our baby. Nah," he shook his head and placed a finger on her lips to stop her from giving him a lecture on just when a fetus becomes a baby. "No arguing, not tonight." He waited until she nodded before he took his finger away and wrapped his arms around her again. "Okay, if you don't like 'Little Bones' how about 'LB'?" when she just stared at him, he added, "'MB'? 'BJ'?"

"What do those initials mean?" she asked, wearily.

"Mini-Bones and Bones Junior," he answered happily and only got a stony stare in return. "No? Oh, come on, Bones. It's cute; I'm sure the baby is a girl and she'll look just like you. And then I'll have Bones and a Mini Bones to hug and spoil," he gave her a squeeze as he started to fantasy about having two Brennans to love. "It's going to be great, Bones; having two of you around." He sounded so happy that Brennan couldn't bring herself to argue with him. With a quiet sigh, she resigned herself to having her progeny referred to by some sort of nickname.

"What happens next?" she asked after a few moments of silence. After she said it, she remembered the last time she'd asked him that question and she pressed closer to him in unconscious response. He remembered too and tightened his arms around her briefly, before he forced himself to relax.

"We go on," he answered. "We live our lives, solve murders and get ready to have and raise our baby."

"It won't be easy," she told him.

"No, it probably won't," he agreed. "But nothing worth having is. And yeah, we'll disagree on a lot of major points and we'll argue and bicker, but somehow, we'll make it through. We've made it through so much already, Bones, I'm sure living together and raising a child won't be what breaks us."

"No, we're stronger than that," she murmured. "Booth?" she said into his shirt.

"Umm?" he replied, absently rubbing his hand up and down her back.

"As difficult and painful as the last year, year and a half, was," she said in a reflective tone of voice, "I think that, in the end, it will turn out to be a good thing for us." Those were words she never thought she'd say. But looking back from the comfort of being in his arms, she could see how, maybe, only something so difficult could have shook her out of her comfort zone.

"What do you mean?" he shifted so that he could look her full on the face. It seemed like it was his turn to be surprised.

"It wasn't easy," she explained slowly, struggling to find the right words to explain something she was just beginning to realize, "seeing you with someone else, thinking that I'd lost you … it was almost impossible to accept that we'd only ever be partners but I think – I think that if that hadn't happened, if I hadn't had to deal with the reality of you loving someone else, I probably wouldn't be as ready or as willing to enter into a committed relationship with you." They stared at each other for a long, silent moment before she started talking once more. "I came back from Maluku thinking that maybe I'd made a mistake that night outside the Hoover but if things had gone back to normal, if I hadn't felt how much it hurt to lose you, I don't know that I wouldn't have run again."

"I guess it's true what they say: we don't really know what we have or how much we want it until we lose it," he commented with half a smile. Something about the way he said it, made Brennan studied his eyes closely. It was true that she couldn't really read many people, but, for some reason, Booth she could read almost as well as she could read a book.

"It's not like I only wanted you because someone else had you," she pointed out calmly and knew she'd been right to do so when she saw the slight twitch around his eyes that he couldn't quite control. "Booth, I knew I wanted to be more than partners when I came back from Maluku," she took the time to explain because this was important, "I just didn't know how much I wanted that or just how far I was willing to go just to keep you in my life until I faced the real possibility of losing you for good. I think I took you and our relationship for granted and that's something I will never do again."

"I probably took you for granted too, Bones," he admitted. "That's something that happens in all relationships at one time or another. And we've been in a relationship for more than seven years now. And no," he shook his head when she opened her mouth to argue, "it might not have been a romantic relationship but it wasn't just work related either; no matter what we said, we were never _just_ partners. Sometimes I think we _have_ been in a romantic relationship, we just didn't have sex."

"Angela says that too," Brennan said. "But I like our relationship now, with us having sex, much better."

"Oh, hell, Bones, me too," Booth said fervently as he pulled her up his body. "Me too," he repeated in a whisper just as his lips crushed hers.

"Neither of us is going anywhere, right?" she asked when he let her up for air. The vulnerability in her voice had him smiling tenderly at her.

"No, Bones," he shook his head. "Now that I got you right where I've always wanted you, there's no force in heaven or hell that can make me let you go or go anywhere without you."

"Good," she said softly as she nestled her head into his neck and wrapped her arms around his torso. He tightened his own arms around her and kissed her head as he thought about everything they talked about that night.

"You know," he began conversationally, "we're very lucky. We came very close to losing each other. In fact, we actually took the other road and experienced what it would be like to not be together. Most people don't come back from that; very few people get a second chance to go back and travel down the missed road, but yet here we are: together, in love and about to have a baby."

"I don't really care what road we're on," she told him practically, "As long as we're on it together."

"Definitely," he agreed emphatically. "Whatever road we're on, from now on, we're on it together." It was a promise he would just about give his life to keep and she knew it.

"Agreed," she said just as emphatically. He smiled and kissed her forehead. They might never get married, he knew that, but he also knew that the promises they just exchanged would be as binding as any vows they could take.

She shifted enough to kiss him, when she pulled back the smile they shared reflected the happiness they felt at the commitment they just made. They had both felt apprehension about having the conversation they'd just had but now that they'd had it, they felt lighter, calmer and a peace with themselves and each other. There were no more misunderstandings or uncertainty – they were together now, completely together: at work, in life. They would catch murders together and they would raise their child together but more importantly: they would BE together.


End file.
